Oxymorons!
by CheddarBomb
Summary: Alias Smith&JonesPotC crossover. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry are roped into aided a desperate Will Turner, Jack Sparrow, and accompanying Navy into rescuing damsel Elizabeth Swann from the notorious Devil's Hole Gang. Chapt. 1 edited: subtle plot change.
1. Chapter 1

"Oxymorons!" 

ProRodeoCowgirl

An Alias Smith and Jones / Pirates of the Caribbean crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except for any plot ideas you do not recognize. Any dates/places are approximate and _probably _not accurate!

A/N: Guys, reviews sure do make the chapters upload quicker!So how about clicking that little button down yonder when you're finished reading:)

Chapter 1

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PORTERSVILLE, WYOMING 

**SEPTEMBER** **10, 1768 **

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"Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free.

'Tis a gift to go back where we ought to be…"

The soft, tenor voice echoed contentedly across the room. The melody slipped sweetly from the lips of a young, dark haired cowboy who was easily strumming a cherry-colored guitar. The fire crackled merrily in response to the mood generated by the man, and a family of five reclined happily in the armchairs around the decorated tree, three children and their parents silently listening to the song. A second cowboy, blonde haired and blue-eyed, leaned against the wall next to the hearth, smilingly cleaning his Colt .45. All six of them were sipping steaming mugs of hot chocolate while occasionally gazing at the thick, white snow that was floating lazily past the frosty window. It was extremely cozy.

The children's eyes popped open as the cowboy reverently delivered the last line of the song.

"…to love and to light."

The living area broke out into happy applause, with enthusiastic cheers from the children, particularly from Laura, the oldest at thirteen. Susie, ten, followed her sister's lead, and eight-year-old Johnny whistled and cried out…

"Again, again!"

"Yeah, Joshua! Pleeease?" begged Susie.

Joshua Smith smiled and indulgently obliged, singing the song through once more. As the last quivering note died, the children's mother, Beth, rose and pushed Laura, Susie, and Johnny toward the bedroom door.

"Allright, kids, we've bothered Mr. Smith long enough…bed!" Beth said.

"Aww, mom, can't we stay up a little longer?" implored Johnny.

"No, dear, it's allready late, and you'll want to get a lot of sleep tonight!" smiled Beth.

The blonde-haired cowboy finished cleaning his gun and, putting it into his holster, grinned at the young boy.

"That's right Johnny, you'll want to snooze away so you can get up early and maybe see Santa Claus' sleigh and all his reindeer!" said Thaddeus Jones.

"Aw, fine then!" pouted Johnny, but the cowboys could see that his face had lighted up at the mention of Santa Claus.

He stomped off excitedly to his room, followed by the girls and Beth. Finally, it was only Joshua, Thaddeus, and the father of the family, Jim, left in the room. Jim stood up, stretched, and yawned.

"Well boys, I reckon I oughta be getting to sleep too…I hafta get up early and put out presents!" He made a face. "Either one of you ever set up a 'doll carriage' before?"

Joshua and Thaddeus laughed, and Joshua gently laid the guitar aside and stood up.

"Sorry, Jim, can't help you there! Perhaps my friend here could though…" he joked easily.

"Ha ha, very funny Joshua," Thaddeus replied, albeit grinning. Jim smiled as well.

"Well, then, I'll be going. Maybe Beth can help me…" He walked to the bedroom door, then turned around and said to the pair, "Don't forget to douse the candles…the kids would kill me if the tree caught fire! And there's more hot chocolate and blankets in the kitchen, if you want them."

And with nods of thanks from the cowboys, he retreated into the room. Thaddeus looked at Joshua as he put out the candles, watched him pull out a blanket and settle himself upon the couch. The only light now came from the dimming embers in the fireplace. He stood still for a moment, thinking longingly of what a wonderful family this was – so simple, strong, happy, whole… He sighed, and a touch of melancholy lingered on his voice as he said,

"Joshua, I'll be taking up that offer of some more hot chocolate. How 'bout you?"

Joshua looked up at him, his chocolate eyes quietly searching the man's face; a small smile graced his features understandingly.

"Yep, I think so too, Jed."

Thaddeus laid aside his gun belt and walked into the kitchen, humming Jingle Bells quietly to himself, lost in reverie. He was returning to the living area with two steaming mugs of cocoa and was on the point of handing one to Joshua when suddenly he was snapped back to reality by an almost silent click and the touch of cold metal against his skin. Automatically, he tensed, fear and shock racing down his spine like the icicles handing on the now seemingly haunted windows. Joshua heard the click and sprang up. His fingers were reaching for his gun when a second click sounded and a low, menacing voice whispered,

"Hold it right there, Mr. Heyes!"

Joshua froze. Neither he nor Thaddeus dared to breathe. They waited, motionlessly quaking with silent fear. Suddenly, a soft, unpleasant laugh reached their ears. A third dark, obscured shadow moved forward from behind the tree and approached the two men. As the initial shock wore off, Joshua began to regain some courage, despite the rifle trained steadily on him. He smoothly said,

"My name's not 'Heyes!' I don't know what you're talking about! My name is Joshua Sm…"

A blur shot out of nowhere and struck him so hard that he staggered. Thaddeus, whose hands were now bound, made a furious move to help him but was immediately pulled back by his captor. He watched helplessly as the ominous man stepped towards Joshua.

"None of your silver tongue tonight, Mr. 'Smith!'" he growled. "I know you're Hannibal Heyes!"

He came even closer and shoved his masked face intimidatingly close to Joshua's. He nodded silkily and jerked his head towards Thaddeus, then gazed piercingly into Joshua's chocolate brown eyes, only a few inches away. He spoke again, his voice dangerously calm.

"And you see that feller? The one you call 'Thaddeus Jones?' I know he's Kid Curry! So you see…" he whispered, pulling his revolver menacingly from its holster, "you're kind of in between a rock and a hard place! 'Cause you're both worth $10,000 dollars apiece dead or alive, and me and my fellows ain't never been too rich."

The last faint embers in the fire smoldered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Joshua heard the man draw away from him. He swallowed and tried not to show nervousness.

"Oh, really?" he replied defiantly, his eyes straining to see the man. "Would you mind telling us which one you intend to collect on, $20,000 dead or $20,000 alive?"

The man turned back to him and an ugly smile formed beneath his mask. He indicated his two accomplices, still holding rifles on the captives.

"Well, the boys were thinking about $20,000 dead, and I must say I agree; but as it's Christmas Eve and I'm in a charitable mood, we'll let you remain alive. Besides," he added nastily, "For the while, you may be more use to us alive…"

He circled slowly behind Joshua, who stood stock still, his whole body tense, waiting blindly for the man's next move. For several moments the only noise was the howling of the angry wind outside the deathly quiet room... Suddenly Joshua heard a whooshing sound and felt the hard, painful thud of a revolver against his skull; his knees gave way, and his vision went black as he collapsed – he was unconscious before he ever hit the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oxymorons!"

ProRodeoCowgirl

Alias Smith and Jones/Pirates of the Caribbean crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except for any plot ideas you do not recognize. Any dates/places are approximate and _probably _not accurate!

A/N: Guys, how about some reviews? Do you hate it? Do you love it? Let me know! 

Chapter 2

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**PORTERSVILLE, WYOMING**

**December 20, 1768**

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Jack Sparrow sauntered lazily up through the peaceul streets of Portersville. He sighed contentedly and grinned, flashing glints of gold at the young ladies that lined the sidewalks. This was the life…he hadn't given Will much credit for this idea, but since they had gotten here, Jack had to admit that Will had been right (_heaven forbid the whelp ever know!_). It was about a few months ago, that he and Will Turner had really gotten into some trouble ransacking ships in the West Indies, especially around Port Royal. That damn Navy had recently gotten a lot tougher and smarter in their efforts to shut down the pirate empire (_either that, or they had finally fired that idiot Norrington; one or the other!_)and now Jack's entire home waters had been infested with ships-of-the-line and frigates just begging for a chance to blow the _Black Pearl_ into oblivion and string up the notorious pirates. What with the price on Jack and Will's head, it was no wonder…$10,000 apiece, dead or alive! Fortunately, Elizabeth Swann, the daughter of Port Royals' governor, had been kidnapped by a gang of gunslinging outlaws when she had been visiting a friend in the Americas. Although Will, her lifetime lover, hadn't exactly taken this news as "fortunate," Jack had managed to convince him that this could work to their advantage…Jack's plan: appeal to the Governor for amnesty if they would rescue Elizabeth. The Governor had hesitated, as was expected, but with just the right amount of coddling and annoying, Jack's silver tongue (surprisingly) came through and the Governor agreed to the deal. Will and Jack had both been delighted, and celebrated by drinking rum all night – for what good was amnesty without a little rum? – but when they were summoned to the Governor's office the next morning, their bubble was burst (or at least, Jack's was). Officials had received news about the band that had kidnapped Elizabeth: it was known as the Devil's Hole Gang, and their hideout was based in _Wyoming!_ Jack hadn't wanted to go ("_Hell, I'd rather take the Navy than have to ride a damn horse's arse all the way from here to Wyoming!") _but Will convinced him otherwise, saying that they had lots of rum and gold and pretty ladies, plus they needed a vacation from swashbuckling. So, grudgingly, Jack had yeilded to the plan. They had put ashore a month later in a small town near the mouth of the El Paso river; there they had bought provisions and directions – for the barman in the local cantina was exceedingly distrustful and very much a mercenary ("_I like that guy! Good man,"_ Jack commented after considerably lightening Will's money purse to pay him). Armed with these commodities, the two pirates set out north on the backs of two fine looking, fast, sleek, and very rough, bay horses. Though the trip had not been quite what they called comfortable, they made good time; with no hinderance, they found themselves in the small town of Portersville, Wyoming, within three weeks of disembarking from the ship. According to Will – who had been stopping at every sherriff's office along the way to make sure they were on the right track – the Devil's Hole Gang typically preferred the surrounding mountainous territory around Portersville. Jack was perfectly happy to let him take control of finding out exactly where the gang was held up; meanwhile, Jack himself would just wander around and take advantage of the fresh air, frisky women, and rank saloons, which, he reluctantly had to admit, served considerable quality liquids that could have easily outdone Tortuga's finest brew if put to the test. All in all, Jack conceeded as he strolled down the walk, Portersville wasn't that bad of a place!

_SCREECH! _

'_That is if you don't count having to dodge Territorial Stage coaches hurtling into the station every time the tumbleweeds blow by!'_ Jack thought grumpily as he picked himself up from the middle of the town square, having barely flung himself out of the way of one of the monsters-on-wheels. Jack straightened up flippantly and considered for a moment going over to tell the crazy driver just exactly what he thought about it. After all, he could have knocked out Jack's gold tooth! He swaggered in a ticked-off manner over to the stagecoach door and was just about to let the driver have it when the door opened and a tall, burly man stepped out. The first thing Jack noticed was the Big Iron resting softly but menacingly on his hip. The second thing Jack noticed was that the man didn't seem to like him. At all.

"I believe you're in my way, mister," he said slowly, making sure that Jack didn't miss a word.

Jack sucked in a breath inwardly. Even in his slightly intoxicated state he could tell this was nobody to be messing with. He looked the man up and down, gauging how far he could push him without _really _loosing a gold tooth. The man's quiet, dangerous attitude reminded Jack strongly of former Captain Barbossa.

"Really now? Well mate, I don't know about that…it seems to me that I was standing here first before you stepped out of that infernal buggy, so actually, _you _are the one whose is in _my_ way" he tested confidentally, smiling his trade mark mischievous smile.

The man's eyes narrowed. Before Jack could move he had reared back and socked Jack a whopper left hook in the face. For the second time in five minutes, Jack tumpled over into the dirt.

'_Apparently, I pushed him too far!' _ Jack thought as he shook his head to clear it. The man leered down at him and growled menacingly,

"Next time you cross my path, _mate_, we'll settle this in the middle of the street, not on the sidewalk!"

He spat on the ground front of Jack. Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust and looked up just in time to see the man stomp off towards a saloon with a big, red, shot up sign hanging over it ("The SixGun Saloon…Come In and Get Loaded!"). He stood up and dusted himself off, not noticing the disbelieving stares coming from all the townspeople.

"Not very nice mannered! Bet he's a eunich," Jack muttered darkly to himself, ashamed at being put down in front of nearly everyone in Portersville.

He swung around and was about to saunter off towards the hotel when an excited voice reached his ears. He turned around jauntily to see Will Turner running towards him from the sherriff's office. Will reached him quickly, his face lit up and a rolled up scrap of paper clutched in his hand; he was about to tell Jack the news he'd found out when he noticed the people staring and Jack's dusty clothing. His face darkened and his mouth got thin. He asked expectantly,

"Jack, what happened this time?"

Jack threw up his hands and swore.

"Why do you always look at me like that, Will? It's almost like you don't trust me… As it were," he continued, not meeting Will's glare, "I happened to get into a fight with this big ugly gunslinger…"

"You WHAT?" Will exclaimed angrily. "We haven't been here for two days, and you've allready managed to get yourself into a fight with a gunslinger?"

"It wasn't entirely my fault…I was almost a nearly innocent bystander!" Jack insisted innocently.

Will began to fume. Jack could see the boiler level beginning to rise, so he grabbed Will's arm, steered him towards the hotel, and said hastily,

"Why don't we just forget about this little incident and mosey over to the hotel, where we can have a nice drink of whiskey and you can tell me whatever it is you've found out from the Sherrif!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Oxymorons!"

ProRodeoCowgirl

An Alias Smith and Jones/Pirates of the Caribbean crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except for any plot ideas you do not recognize. Any dates/places are approximate and _probably _not accurate!

A/N: This chapter is mostly backstory and setting up for the next chapter. I'm sorry it doesn't contain much action, but you'll need to read it to understand chapter 4. 

Chapter 3

It was dark, murky, and cold. The cavern walls were of black-grey; no warmth to be felt resided in the fearful confines. The steady _drip-drip_ of a forlorn stream buried deep beneath the stone magnified to such a pitch in the silence that it sent reverberating waves of sound off the walls. A pitch-black tunnel was the only outlet from the dank prison, but what good was it…it only led to another cavern, and another, and another – it was an endless maze of twisting passages, caves, and mining tracks. The only inhabitant of the suffocating room was a young man; he was slumped forward, apparently unconscious, tightly bound in a chair. Dark circles ringed his closed eyes, and his chocolate hair fell forward into his handsome face. For Hannibal Heyes, the thick ropes encircling his body were nothing short of cold, steel bars constricting about his life, barring the way to freedom.

How long he had been here, in this torturous abode, Heyes knew not. Nor did he know where his lifetime friend Kid Curry was, and this disturbed him. As long as the two had been alive, they had been together…as fast friends, faithful companions, silent listeners, quiet enemies, angry brothers; for they were brothers, as far as they were concerned. Not by blood, but at the same time, they were closer than any blood brothers could ever be; for it was by blood that they were made brothers…

_**Flashback**_

It was during the war. Twelve year old Hannibal Heyes was walking contentedly back to the his Kansas farmhouse from what had been a very prosperous fishing trip…four nice fat trout! That would make a wonderful supper, and it would make Mother Ann happy too. Han thought about giving two of them to his best friend, neighbor, and closest cousin, Jedidiah Curry. He lived just across the creek from Han and his folks, about a half mile away. Han smiled at the prospect of seeing Kid's excited and jealous face when he beheld the exceptional trout. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the thick, black smoke billowing from beyond a nearby hill...until the suffocating smell reached his nostrils.

"_Mom never build fires!" _he thought, frowning.

He knew that his mom didn't think much of fires because one, they didn't have a fireplace, and two, someone always had to clean away the soot. And anyway, a small cooking fire wouldn't raise that much smoke! Suddenly, an alarm bell went off in Heyes' head, and he unconsciously quickened his pace. Something was wrong…he could feel it. Now as he got closer to the hill he could hear silence. That wasn't right...where were the horses? The cows? The chickens? Where was his mother? He should be able to hear sounds coming from the farmhouse by now. Sweat began to bead on Heyes' forehead and quite abruptly a feeling of dread and intense, chilling fear came down upon him, bowing his shoulders as he ran furiously towards the ominous, black smoke. Heyes topped the hill and the startling image met his eyes of the quaint, little farmhouse being consumed greedily and mercilessly by the ever-gorging fire. He vaguely registered that the flames were laughing evilly at him, as the smoke whirled around the small, defenseless home. Heyes stopped running and doubled over, heaving, face covered with his hands…the trout lay far behind, twitching forlornly, in the middle of the dirt path. A state of complete shock enveloped Hannibal, numbing him to the world…it was gone. The only home he had ever known was gone…the flames were spreading to the barn, the fences were nothing more than charred toothpicks, the wheat surrounding the house was being devoured quicker than one could blink an eye. Heyes saw none of this. His eyes ravaged unseeingly the debris outside the house…they came to rest on a petite shape lying in the dead grass. The breath caught in his chest and the desolate dream state was lifted; a sharp needle of realization pierced Heyes' mind, and his forced his legs into action, running frantically towards the remains of what he knew was his mother. He dropped to his knees beside her.

"Mother Anna!" he asked desperately, his breath coming in gasps. "Anna? ANNA!"

She was lying prostrate on the ground with blood covering her face, wide eyes staring blankly towards the sky, a small, silver ring clutched tight in her cold, lifeless hand. A crimson stain was spreading from a small, circular wound in her chest…a bullet wound. A tumult of fiercely agonizing emotions slammed into him – hate, passion, mental torture, physical anguish, overwhelming hopelessness – and he screamed, crying out his pain to the vivid blaze of the setting sun, the wrenching sound mixing smoothly with the firy glow and purple loneliness of the eve. How he swore to revenge himself upon the murdering wretches that had killed her! Heyes sank to the ground next to his mother's body. How long he stayed there, he didn't know. Time lost meaning, hours slipped by, and the bonfire glow of the sun sank into the west to be replaced by the cover of night, the full moon mocking his agony with it's calm peacefullness. Then, softly, a trembling voice sounded behind him, gently prying him from his shocked stupor.

"Heyes?" it whispered.

He didn't even have to turn around to know that voice.

"Yeah, Kid?" he replied, the broken sound issuing back to his cousin.

He turned around slowly, moving for the first time in hours. Jedidiah Curry, barely over the tender age of ten, stood alone behind him, silhouetted against the moonlight, pale faced and trembling, his baby blue eyes staring desperately into Heyes' brown ones. Heyes knew the instant he met Jed's terrified, blank gaze what had befallen his friend. More painful to realize was the fact that they now had no one left in the world; it was just the two of them left. Heyes trembled, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He swallowed resolutely, and taking the silver ring reverently from his mother's hand, tucked it safely into his pocket. He got up and turned slowly, then walked over to Kid and put his hands upon the child's shoulders. The touch turned into a simple, but fierce embrace: two friends, alone, clinging desperately to the only thing they now had left...each other. And Heyes whispered through choked tears to Curry,

"_Don't worry, Kid. Somehow, through the grace of God, we're gonna make it. We're brothers now, Kid, and we're never going to give up! It'll be hard, but we'll never give up…I swear my life's blood to you that I'll always watch over you. And we'll watch over each other." _

_**End Flashback**_

"We'll watch over each other…"

Those five words chased each other through Hannibal's exhausted mind as he slept restlessly. Boy, had he broken that promise. He had promised to watch over his younger cousin forever, and now he had no idea where those monsters had taken him, or indeed if he was still alive. Heyes jerked in his sleep as a mental picture of Kid Curry sprang into his dream: Kid, lying motionless on the ground, dark smoke caressing his cold body, swirling around him like a blanket of death, cushioning his head of blonde curls; the evil black fingers gently exploring his still chest, almost lovingly stroking the smooth skin of the left breast, upon which a small, cirular wound was pouring a fountain crimson. Heyes watched as the finger of smoke dipped into the stream of red and then was whisked faintly away to curl around Kid's outstretched hand; a ring of silver rested upon the pale palm…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Heyes' wrenching scream pierced the silence of the cavern.

Almost instantly a hand whipped out and struck him a reeling blow. Sweat pouring off of him, Heyes fought to regain control of his shaking body.

"Be quiet, Mr. Heyes! You've no reason to scream…yet!" hissed a voice.

Heyes pulled his head up to look around at the man who had silently entered the cave. His eyes fought to see him. He was about to reply when a second voice reached his ears...this one came from the mouth of the tunnel. He instantly recognized him as the man who knocked him out. He was still masked. Heyes listened as the man asked,

"Has everything been OK here while I was away, Dave?"

"Sweet as sugar pie, boss. He ain't said a word 'til just now," Dave answered, jerking his head towards Heyes.

"And the other?" the man questioned expectantly. Dave grinned darkly and replied,

"Same as when you left him!"

"Good," the man drolled, also smiling unpleasantly, and staring directly at Heyes.

Heyes felt relief flood through him at these words…so Kid was alive! And he was here. Momentarily giddy, he didn't notice when the man stepped closer to where he was tied. Then the second part of Dave's comment penetrated Heyes' mind, and fear suddenly pulsated through him. He demanded angrily,

"What have you done to Thaddeus?"

The men laughed evilly. The "boss" spat a thin stream of tobacco juice onto the ground and replied nastily,

"None of your business what I've done to Mr. Curry, is it now, Mr. Heyes?"

"Yes it is!" snarled Heyes, straining at the ropes in attempt to reach the man. "And why do you always wear a mask? You coward! Are you afraid to let your victims see your face while you torture them?"

The man's face contorted with rage, and furiously he swung around to Heyes; he grabbed a fistful of Heyes' hair, twisting his head back as far as it would go. Ignoring Heyes' intense gasp of pain, he menacingly ripped off the mask and pulled out a Big Iron, pinning the barrel tightly to Heyes' exposed throat. He leered and shoved his horrific face within an inch of Heyes'. He growled angrily and snarled,

"Let it be known, _victim_, that Bill the Kid is NOT a coward!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Oxymorons!"

ProRodeoCowgirl

An Alias Smith and Jones/Pirates of the Caribbean crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except for any plot ideas you do not recognize. Any dates/places are approximate and _probably _not accurate!

A/N: Hey guys…I haven't had time to edit anything yet, so I just want to acknowledge the fact that I made an error in chapters 1 and 2…despite what I had typed, I did indeed intend for it to be Christmas Eve. 

Chapter 4

"Allright, eunich, out with it!"

Will sat at the hotel bar and silently downed a shotglass full of sharp whiskey. Jack stood there, fidgeting, waiting, for him to finish...Will reckoned the only reason Jack was so interested in the information he had obtained was that he wanted to get the heck out of this – what had he called it – "irritable stagecoach infested, gunslinging, P.O.ed excuse of a town" and get on with the rescue plan. Now there was a switch…for once, it was he himself, Will, who was doing the drinking and pulling the "Opportune Moment" act, while _Jack _had to sit there and dance around impatiently, passing the time until Will decided to oblige him. He smiled mischievously to himself. It felt immensely satisfying.

"Oh for the love of Davy Jones, Will, _COME ON!" _Jack nearly howled desperately.

Will grinned and turned to stare Jack in the eye. Deliberately, he slowly finished the rest of the glass's contents, knowing that every tiny sip was driving Jack crazy. Finally he swallowed and let out a happy sigh, then flipped a coin to the bartender.

"Good whiskey! Now, I will proceed to commence with the program, since you've been so kind as to wait patiently for me!"

He smirked as Jack rolled his eyes. Jack gave him an evil glare as if to say, _"Get on with it or else!"_

"All right, all right! Here!" Will gave in, and he slid the rolled up piece of paper over to Jack. Jack grabbed the paper and unrolled it…it was a map. He looked up at Will and asked:

"Care to explain?"

"Well, as you know, I went to Sherriff Lomm Trevors' office to check up on the Devil's Hole Gang. Turns out Trevors has been dealing with them for quite some time now and has had several personal run-ins with the ringleaders of the gang. He told me that the gang was previously run by some guys named "Heyes" and "Curry" but that Lomm had been fighting to gain the outlaws amnesty because they had never committed any serious crime except for robbing banks and trains. Said they left the gang over a year ago and have been trying to go straight ever since."

Will took a breather here and after wetting his whistle on a sip of water (he didn't want to become one hundred percent intoxicated) he continued.

"Sherriff Trevors told me that after the boys left, the gang – who always kinda took their lead from Heyes and Curry – simmered down and didn't cause no more trouble, up until about a month ago. Reports started coming in of kidnappings, robberies, gunshots up in that there valley (he pointed to an area of the map settled in between mountains and a high, cliffy forest), damage to private property in the surrounding area… Anyways, what really swiped the pot was when the elderly keeper of the General Store was found dead in his house, shot three times in the chest. That really caused a stir in the neighborhood…the Devil's Hole gang had never done any murderin' before."

Jack nodded, for once listening without interrupting. He unconsciously studied the map in his hands as well as soaked in every word Will said.

"Sherriff Trevors doesn't think it's Heyes and Curry…he thinks someone new is running the gang," Will stated. "Said that over the fall, a lot of people have been moving into Portersville, so he really doesn't have any idea who the new boss could be...as of now he just blends in with the rest of the new faces. He did mention, though, that the manager of the General Store – Andrew Hawk, I think he called him – was shot by the bullets from a Big Iron .45. Said there's this new fella that occasionally shows up at the saloons who wears one; apparently nobody likes him, he's extremely nasty tempered and pretty much everyone stays out of his way."

Will finished and Jack, who had finished perusing the map and was now slugging down a not-so-small glass of whiskey, knew by the look on Will's face that he was supposed to be registering some important fact in the speil Will had just given him. However, being the lazy pirate that he was, he just decided to take the easy route!

"What the hell are you getting at?" he asked bluntly.

"I'm getting at one, the only man in town I've seen wearing a Big Iron was the one you unfortunately had to make friends with this afternoon; two, he apparently has only shown up in town in the last month or two; and three, all this trouble started back about a month ago, almost identical to the time when the Devil's Hole gang kidnapped Elizabeth!" Will finished triumphantly.

Jack scrunched his nose and stared out the window. Then he turned back to Will and rattled off,

"So, Sherriff Lomey Trebors or whatever the hell you said his name was; I suppose he drew up there here lil' map so's we'll know exactly where to look for this gang, savvy?"

"Savvy!" Will replied. "Knew you'd get it all in the end!" he added, teasing. Jack dramatically rolled his eyes, the trinkets in his braid rattling every which way in the process.

"Well, at least we know _partially_ what we're dealing with now," Jack mumbled under his breath.


End file.
